


Break Me

by aqono



Category: Static Shock
Genre: BDSM, Masochism, S&M, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqono/pseuds/aqono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do not own Static Shock.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Break Me

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Static Shock.

“Master, please.”

For the last ten minutes, Richie has been pacing back and forth behind Virgil—who has his nose pressed against a corner—making extra sure that his boots echo, which knee-high black leather with a spike strip across the top of the foot. Each time he comes to a stop directly behind him, Richie smacks a whip in his left hand just loud enough for Virgil to hear it, and each time it makes him stand up even straighter. Each time, Richie laughs, because he loves how much control he has over him with a simple sound.

The best part is: Richie hasn’t even done anything yet.

Laughing through his nose, Richie crosses his arms and grins. “Aw,” he says mockingly, “are you desperate? Is the anticipation too much for you?” He laughs again and gets right up against Virgil’s back, snaking his hand around his front where he teasingly brushes the very tips of his fingers against the very tip his cock. Virgil gasps and bucks back against Richie, who steps back just far enough so he can’t touch him. Richie laughs when Virgil whines. “You know you can’t have that yet,” he says, laughing, taking his hand back and walking away. “I have to punish you first.”

Virgil whimpers because there’s seriously nothing else for him to do. He knows full well Richie is going to punish him, and even if does to argue it, there’s no point. Granted, he could put a stop to this if he wants to, but that’s the thing: he doesn’t want to.

“Master, please,” Virgil says again. The anticipation really is killing him. “Please punish me, Master.”

The biggest grin forms on Richie’s lips. Never before has he heard Virgil utter words about actually wanting to be punished—they both know Virgil likes it, but he’s never vocally asked to be punished—and he has to say that he can easily get used to it.

Richie stops pacing and is, once again, standing right behind Virgil. For a moment he teasingly breathes hot air against Virgil’s neck, nipping at his ear. He makes certain to keep his crotch away from Virgil, but also make sure Virgil knows it’s there. He wants to make sure Virgil knows exactly what he has to look forward to.

Looping his fingers around the black collar on Virgil’s neck, Richie yanks it back to make him stumble so he can essentially throw him down on the nearby couch. With the upper half of his body on the couch, and his face buried in the cushion, Richie readily takes advantage of the fact Virgil’s ass is fully exposed, sits down beside him, and immediately delivers a healthy smack to it.

Virgil yelps, but thrusts his ass back so as to push it farther in the air. As much as it hurt, he only wants more. If there’s one punishment Virgil can’t get enough of, it’s being spanked. Hand against bare ass spanked.

Before getting up again, Richie delivers a dozen or so more swats to either side of Virgil’s ass, making sure to make it red; making sure to make it burn. He stops when Virgil begins to struggle and try to get away, because as much as he likes it, even he has a limit with pain. And it’s not that Richie stops because Virgil doesn’t like it; he stops because he’s bored and wants to move on to something else.

Making his way to his table of toys, leaving Virgil with his face in the couch, Richie stands with his hands on his hips, biting his bottom lip, and he debates what he wants to use. It doesn’t take him long, though, to realize that he doesn’t really want to use any of the items before him—because he’s used them all so many times before—and he turns on his heels to look at Virgil, who obediently has not moved a single muscle, and smiles.

For a moment Richie disappears into the next room where he scrapes some ice from the walls soda machine he created. When he has enough to fill about half a cup, he clears his throat and turns back into the main room. Kneeling behind Virgil, he scoops a bit into his hands and lets them drop on Virgil’s ass where he grabs them before they fall and slides them across the red, obviously still burning, skin.

Virgil gasps and thrusts back toward the ice before whimpering and squirming and trying to get away from it. Initially, it felt good against his reddened skin, but within a few moments, it started to sting, and bad; started to feel like it would need to be yanked off in order to ever be removed. Richie gives a throaty laugh as he only presses the ice even more firmly against Virgil’s skin. He hadn’t necessarily expected this reaction—though he did know it would hurt—and he plans to relish in it for as long as he has ice.

However, considering how warm Virgil’s skin is, and how quickly the ice just starts feeling good instead of hurting, Richie decides to stop before he does run out of ice. If it’s not going to cause Virgil pain, there’s not a point in doing it. Instead of putting the ice against Virgil’s ass, he decides to be a jerk with it and slips one of the larger pieces inside him instead. He scoots back and laughs as he watches Virgil squirm and listen to him scream.

Arching his back, nearly throwing his head back, Virgil cries out, “Ah, Master, that hurts!” at the top of his lungs. It’s not even necessarily that it’s cold—with Virgil’s body temperature, it melts rather quickly—it’s that it’s oddly shaped and that makes it uncomfortable. Not to mention, once the ice melts, the water makes his stomach cramp, and that’s what hurts the most. Richie goes to slip in another, but Virgil squirms away from him before he has chance. “Please, Master. No.”

Richie raises an eyebrow and stands straight up, crossing his arms. “Mm,” he murmurs. “Well then what do you suppose I do?”

Virgil replies with a choked sob because his stomach is seriously cramping. “I don’t know, Master. Anything else. Just please not that.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he shifts so he’s lying on the couch completely, face down.

Richie ignores the movement to instead pay attention to the oddly pained sob. Getting down on his knees, and scooting close to the couch, Richie slides his hand under Virgil’s stomach where he gently massages his lower abdomen. Just as Virgil lets out a groan of satisfaction, Richie leans in and bites Virgil’s ear, which makes him scream. It, however, hurts less than his stomach, so he can’t say he minds. Not to mention, Richie massaging Virgil’s stomach is starting to make it feel better. He’d say it’s a pretty fair tradeoff.

With a hot breath, Richie speaks against Virgil’s ear. “Do you think you deserve to be fucked now?” Moving his hand from Virgil’s stomach to his balls, he gently grasps and massages them. Virgil groans as he thrusts against Richie’s hand. “You think you can be a good boy now?”

 

Virgil whimpers softly and nods. “Yes, Master. I can be a good boy. I promise.” He groans loudly and thrusts against Richie’s hand, groaning only slightly at the bit of pain in causes, though he’s too horny to really, honestly care. “God, please fuck me! I—” He squirms again. “Please!”

“Mm,” Richie murmurs as he stands up, sure that Virgil is once again comfortable. With a soft sigh, he crosses his arms and just stares at Virgil for several moments. Eventually, he gives a throaty laugh, leans over, and yanks his collar to make him sit up. When he’s looking up at Richie, he continues, crossing his arms again. “I don’t think you’re ready quite yet. I don’t think I’ve punished you enough.”

Virgil whimpers, unsure of what to say.

“Oh, come on,” Richie says and uncrosses his arms as he walks away. “You _know_ you want to be whipped until you’re screaming my name.” Turning around, he walks back to Virgil and dangles the whip in front of his sub’s face by his pointer finger, his other hand on his hip. Virgil’s eyes go wide and Richie laughs. “This whip is your favorite toy, isn’t it?”

A throaty whimper escapes Virgil’s slightly agape lips as he shifts, his erection becoming stiffer—as if that were honestly possible at this point. His eyes go back and forth as he watches the whip swing.

Shoving the whip down against his hip, Richie grabs Virgil’s collar and yanks him up, ignoring the groan of pain, and guides him to the chains on the wall. Within just a few moments, Virgil’s collar has been chained to the wall in front of him and his hands are cuffed above his head from the ceiling. There is absolutely no way Virgil can get away, or try to stop, the punishment that is about to come.

Not that he’s gonna want to, because Richie knows just how much Virgil loves to be whipped. It’s the one punishment Virgil never actually tries to stop, and the one he never refuses; never fights against.

No matter how hard Richie tries to make him do otherwise. It’s like a game; Virgil loves being whipped, and Richie tries to make him hate it. So far, it’s never happened.

Grabbing the whip, Richie holds it about a third of the way up, firmly in his grasp. Standing at an angle, he pulls his hand back and brings it down; just as firmly as he’s hold in, on the back of Virgil’s thigh. Virgil yelps, and instantly Richie swings it again, reddening the skin until he moves onto the other side. When the back of his thighs are blistered and red, Richie stops and takes a step back.

There are tears in Virgil’s eyes, and his breathing is heavy, but he still makes eye contact with his Master. Richie grins and Virgil bites his lip.

“Does that mean you’re done?” Richie asks and crosses his arms. “Can you not take it anymore?” He takes a step forward, grabbing Virgil’s chin firmly in his grasp and jerking him forward. The chains rattle. “Have I finally broken you?”

Virgil shakes his head, loosening Richie’s grip. “N-No. I can still take it…” He takes in a deep breath and gasps, partially because he’s so horny. “Y-You can whip me more, Master.”

“Mm,” Richie murmurs, and walks around Virgil once, examining him closely. When he stops in the spot he started, he shrugs and drops the whip. Turning on his heels, he disappears for just a moment before returning with a small tube of lube. Instantly, Virgil’s eyes go wide the sight and Richie laughs. “What? You think this for you?”

Virgil whimpers.

 “Well, you’re right,” he says and with a grin, clicking open the top. “Ya know, ’cause you’re _such_ a good boy and all.” He pauses for a moment, murmuring as he crosses his arms. “Although, I guess I didn’t really try very hard for your punishment.” He looks up at Virgil who is staring at him in shock. “Maybe I should punish you more.” Kneeling to get the whip, he says, “Maybe I should make you bleed; make sure you really deserve this reward.” He looks up at Virgil, still kneeling, and grins. “What do you think?”

“It’s up to you, Master. I’ll do anything you want.”

Richie’s eyes go wide with amusement and lust. Instantly, he forgets about the whip and stands up. In no time at all, he’s standing behind Virgil, his pants around his hips. Squeezing a small amount of lube into his hand, he covers himself and, with the extra on his fingers, gets up close to Virgil and slides them, ever so slowly, inside his sub who lets out a loud gasps and thrusts back against them. Richie leans in to nibble on Virgil’s ear.

“You are such an obedient boy,” Richie says as he finds Virgil’s prostate, massaging it with the pads of his fingers. Virgil whimpers and thrusts back again, lulling his head back against Richie’s shoulder. Richie takes advantage of the exposed neck and bites it. “You really know how to drive your Master crazy, don’t you?” he says as he trails bite marks down to his clavicle and up again. Virgil gives a throaty whimper with each bite, with each time Richie gives attention to his prostate. “Mm, God, such a good boy,” he murmurs against Virgil’s nipple before biting it, and hard.

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut and screams, but it is quickly cut off with gasping when Richie parts his fingers, stretching him. All Virgil really, honestly wants is for Richie to fuck him, but at this point, he knows better than to beg, because he has his Master being affectionate and he knows better than to want more than that until Richie is ready to give him more. That is, if he chooses to give him more. All of this affection could very easily be put to a stop and become more punishment.

His throbbing cock pressed against Virgil’s back, Richie shoves his fingers inside his sub as far as he can manage before leaning in and biting his ear. Virgil’s eyes are still squeezed shut, and he’s merely gasping because his Master is talking to him, and he knows better than to make noise louder than his voice. There’s a whole list of things Virgil knows better than to do.

“I bet you want me to fuck you, huh?” Richie asks; his voice is low and gruff. “I bet you want me to fuck you until you… can’t… stand… up,” he says, biting Virgil between the last few words, his voice getting softer with each word. By the end, Virgil’s neck is somewhat bleeding and it stings, because Richie is blowing cool air against it. Virgil whimpers in response.

“I’ll let you choose,” Richie says, lapping his tongue against the bleeding part of his neck. Once again, he stretches his fingers wide, stretching Virgil again. Virgil doesn’t respond to the sensation because he’s waiting patiently for the rest of Richie’s sentence. “I can fuck you now,” he begins, “or I keep whipping you and I’ll double your reward later.”

Virgil gasps, opens his eyes, and whimpers quizzically. His brown eyes are wide with confusion. “W-What’s the second reward, Master?” he asks, his voice shaking.

Richie laughs. “That’s just for you to find out.” Sliding his fingers out of Virgil, he walks around to face him. “But I promise if you can take being whipped again, for as long as I want to do it, it’ll be well worth the wait.” There’s a momentary pause while Richie looks around to find the whip. When he finds it, he picks it up quickly and returns to his spot. Just as before, he swings it back and forth in front of Virgil’s face, laughing at how wide-eyed his sub gets. “What do you say?” He grins. “Gonna let me try ‘n break you?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, his breathing heavy, Virgil nods. Richie has such a way of being convincing and it always brings Virgil to his weakest point. Maybe it’s because Virgil can’t say no to a challenge, or maybe it’s just because he wants to know what Richie has in store. Either way, Virgil agrees to let Richie whip him.

Grinning even wider, Richie stops swinging the whip and walks behind Virgil. Standing at an angle, Richie grasps Virgil’s shoulder to steady not only himself, but keep Virgil in place; the last thing he wants is him moving or trying to get away, because this is definitely going to hurt. Not that Richie thinks Virgil would misbehave and try to get away, but it’s better to alleviate temptation before it arises.

Bringing the whip back, Richie brings it down, hard, on the back of Virgil’s thigh, and immediately he yelps. Before initiating a second, Richie looks over Virgil’s shoulder and uses the hand holding Virgil’s shoulder to grab his jaw and turn his head. “You fucking chose this,” he says to his wide-eyed sub. “So I suggest you take your punishment quietly, or it may very well never end. Do you understand me?”

Virgil simply nods.

“Good,” Richie says lets go of Virgil’s face, backhanding him before returning his hand to his shoulder and his attention to his ass.

With a firm grip on his shoulder once again, Richie continues to whip Virgil. First he pays most of his attention to the left thigh, and then the right. He doesn’t move on to another part of Virgil’s backside until the one he is on is red and blistered and, presumably, hot to the touch. Finally, he moves on to the left side of Virgil’s ass and, before long, he is whimpering from pain of the whip. This has been going on for a good twenty minutes now, longer than it ever has before. In fact, there are parts of his backside that are bleeding from the whip and how raw it has made his skin.

Richie stops whipping Virgil to bring attention to the fact he’s made noise after being specifically told not to. Shoving the whip down against his thigh, Richie gets up close to Virgil, grabs his neck and speaks gruffly against his ear, his breath hot with anger.

“I thought I told you not to make noise,” Richie says, squeezing Virgil’s neck. He talks through the gagging noises his is making. “What part of that was so fucking difficult for you to understand, exactly?”

Though his words are choked, Virgil tries to speak, anyway. It’s not until Richie vaguely hears a string of words that perk his interest that he lets go of his neck. Taking a step back, he crosses his arms and the widest grin of satisfaction crosses his lips. He knows exactly what Virgil said, but he wants to hear it again.

“Did you just say you can’t take anymore?” Richie laughs airily. “Are you saying I’ve just broken you? Did I finally find your limit?” He pauses for a moment, shifts his weight from one foot to another and clears his throat. “I’m afraid I couldn’t hear you, so you’ll have to say it again.”

Virgil squeezes his eyes closed and nods, gulping.

“Mm,” Richie murmurs and leans in, his arms crossed. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that means. You’ll have to _speak_. Use your fucking words, Virgil.”

Virgil sniffs and nods again. “Yes, Master.” He pauses for a moment and gulps, giving an airy, forced breath before speaking again. “Y-Yes… I can’t take it anymore, Master.”

“Can’t take what anymore?” Richie laughs because he loves this game; loves making Virgil admit when he’s weak. “I’m afraid I still don’t know what you mean.”

“I… I can’t take anymore being whipped,” Virgil says and looks down at the ground. He closes his eyes, his breathing shaking. And just because he knows Richie will make him say it, he promptly adds: “I… you… you broke me, Master.”

Richie murmurs contentedly as he stares at Virgil for a moment, broken with his head down. He laughs airily as he pulls the whip out and tosses it on the floor, off to the side. Walking around front Virgil, he gets down on his knees in front of his sub—something most Domes do not typically do for their subs, but since Virgil’s been so good, he deserves it—and tightly grabs Virgil’s hips. The sensation makes Virgil open his eyes and he goes wide-eyed to see Richie on his knees like he is, gasping softly.

Richie doesn’t look up at Virgil. “Just because I’m about to do something for you,” he says, removing one hand from his hip to gently cradle his balls in his hand, “doesn’t mean I’m not still your Master.” With a quite a bit of force, he flicks on of Virgil’s balls, and it makes him gasps, causing his chains to rattle loudly. Richie grasps Virgil’s hip once again. “You better damn well be thankful for what I’m about to do.”

Without another word, Richie wraps his lips around the top of Virgil’s length. Without much notice, he swallows his entire and begins to loudly hum around it. Gasping, Virgil throws his head back as his bonds rattle. He whimpers his gratitude to his Master, all the while his breathing becoming uneven and his body starting to stiffen. He is so close to orgasm, but he knows better to cum unless Richie tells him to. So, instead of focusing on his desired orgasm, he focuses on the sweet sensation of Richie’s tongue lapping around the tip of his penis. Unfortunately, that doesn’t really help him forget how horny he is and how bad he wants to orgasm. Instead, it reminds him how badly he wants to start begging for reals.

After a few moments, he finally does.

“Master, please! Please, Master, may I cum?” Virgil gulps, squeezing his eyes shut. He fights against his bonds, doing anything he can to keep himself from orgasm. “Please, I need cum so bad, Master! Please!” Unfortunately, Richie seems to be ignoring Virgil in favor of assaulting his painfully throbbing member instead. The desire to cum is nearly bringing Virgil to tears and he can hardly take it anymore; he needs to cum. He needs release. “Ah! Master, _please_! Please, I need to cum so bad! Please, may I?! I—”

Richie cuts Virgil off by letting him fall out of his mouth. Getting to his feet, Richie walks around Virgil, snakes his hand around his side where he grabs his length and begins stroking it. Without warning, Richie shoves his half-lubricated length (that’s been exposed since teasing Virgil with the prospect of sex earlier) deep inside his ass, making Virgil scream loudly and buck backward before bucking forward into Richie’s hand. Although in any other instance Virgil would have absolutely deplored the way Richie went in, right now he is far too horny to really care, and the mixture of sensations is doing a number on his thought process and honestly al he wants is to orgasm. All he wants is Richie’s approval to cum.

“Do not cum until I do,” Richie warns against Virgil’s ear in a hot breath. “Do you understand me? You cannot imagine the consequences you’ll face for cuming before me.”

When he’s positive Virgil understands what he’s saying, Richie begins to thrust, vigorously, all the while the movement of his hand on Virgil’s length matching that of his thrusting. It doesn’t take Richie long to orgasm—because in all honestly, he’s been horny just as long as Virgil has—and he shoots deep inside Virgil, making his sub scream Richie’s name in a delighted ecstasy. However, when that quickly wears off, he’s left with the painful reminder he needs to cum. Bad.

“Master! Master, _please_! Please, let me cum! Please!” Virgil begins to beg again. “I… I can’t wait any longer! Please, I…” He rattles against his chains and falls back into Richie, his head lulling back on Richie’s shoulder. Richie takes advantage of the neck exposure and bites it, creating another few beads of blood in the same place. Virgil screams. He can’t honestly take anymore. “Master,” he screams at the top of his lungs, “please!”

With another firm bite to Virgil’s neck, Richie says, “Cum! Cum now! Right now!”

Just as Richie commands, Virgil’s breath speeds up and he squeezes his eyes shut as he screams his gratitude to his Master, shooting his cum all across the floor beneath him. “Oh! Oh! Oh, Master! Oh, God! Oh, thank you!” He takes in and lets out quick breaths through his nose as his orgasm quickly dies down and, if it weren’t for the chains, his jelly legs would have sent him to the floor.

However, before leaving the room to find products to clean the floor, Richie does undo Virgil’s bond which, in turn, does send him to the floor. For a moment Richie just stares at him before laughing through his nose, turning, and walking away.

Richie’s gone for a little over two minutes before he returns with a mop to clean up the mess, along with a small tube of ointment. He finds Virgil, still in a heap, sitting on the side of his thigh because, presumably, his ass hurts too much. The sigh simply makes him laugh again.

“Ass hurt?”

Virgil looks up at Richie who is looking back down at him with a smile. “I’ll get over it.” He grins. “That ice thing was terrible. I hated that.”

Richie shrugs. “Like hate-hate? Like you don’t want me to do it again, hate?”

Virgil nods.

Richie just shrugs again. He’s not about to apologize for what he did during their session, but he’s not about to do it again if Virgil didn’t like it. Each of their sessions are filled with one-time things Richie tries and Virgil needs wants to have happen again.

“Did I really break you?”

Virgil murmurs and glances up at Richie again who is putting the mop off to the side and sitting down next to him. “My ass hurts,” he reiterates. “A lot.” He furrows his eyebrows and reaches his hand back to touch it. It burns, even to him. “It’s never hurt this much. It feels raw.”

“Because it is,” Richie says and grabs Virgil’s arm to pull him over his leg. This time, however, it’s not to give punishment. This time it’s to help heal wounds. “Your ass is raw” he says again. “You’ll probably want to sit on a donut or something.” Clearing his throat, he opens the bottle of ointment, puts a bit on his fingertip and begins to very gently massage it into Virgil’s skin.

“Ow!” Virgil hisses as he squirms. “Ow, damn it, that hurts!”

“Well, duh, Virgil,” Richie says as he presses his hand on his lower back to stop him from moving. “Your ass is completely raw from me whipping you. Of course it’s going to hurt to touch, but this stuff will help.”

Virgil sighs and lets his body lay limp across Richie’s lap. Every so often he jerks when the aftercare stings, but on the whole it does start to feel better, just like Richie promised. When Richie is done apply ointment, Virgil stays across his lap long enough to let it work a little.

“Did you like it?” Richie asks.

Virgil grins. “Well, of course I did.”

“Good,” Richie says softly as he gently traces his fingers along Virgil’s back. “I’m glad.”

There’s a long pause between them while Virgil stares at the floor and Richie stares at the ceiling, stroking his lover’s back. They’re both lost in their own trains of thought for what seems like forever. That is, of course, until Virgil breaks it.

“I love you, Rich.”

Richie grins and looks down. He begins to make doodles of hearts on Virgil’s back as he responds. “I love you, too, Virg.” He clears his throat. “I love you, too. So very much.”


End file.
